March 29, 2007

I'm nowhere near the first person to weigh in on the harassment flung at prominent technologist Kathy Sierra (read the whole disgusting mess if you must) so let me point you to a few places of thoughtful discussion so you can educate yourself and make up your own mind.

I don't need to repeat what everyone is saying: That this is a repulsive display of inhumanity and precisely what happens when we believe we can excuse anything in the name of snarking, humor, or the imaginary promise of total freedom the Internet promised so long ago. It isn't funny, it isn't performance art, it isn't even protected speech. It's bile. And our bodies know what to do with bile.

* Blogher co-founder Lisa Stone had this to say about protecting the safety of women, neigh all of us, online.

*The excellent tech journalist Dan Fost wrote up this account in the San Francisco Chronicle.

On a less calm note, would someone kindly tell Chris Pirillo that this isn't helping?

This isn’t new, folks - far from it. Kathy is just one out of (certainly) millions of people who suffer at the minds of psychotics. And without trying to minimize this particular situation, I’ve gotta tell you - this sounds like high school to me. Literally. Granted, I’ve had just as many death threats ONLINE - but they didn’t just start last week.

I received death threats in high school all the time - ALL THE TIME. Only, I didn’t have to deal with anonymous Internet cowards [back then] - I had to deal with real-world bullies who weren’t happy unless they struck fear into me. Death threats are just as serious in high school as they are in the world beyond.

Mr. Pirillo is correct but misguided. When a colleague is attacked and fears for her safety, the humane reaction is to show your solidarity first and question the level of his or her reaction later. While there's no harm in logic, logic in the face of another's needless misfortune is misplaced and cold. "People suck, waddya gonna do?" and Me-too-ism do not show warmth. And what people in pain and fear need is warmth.

To be clear, I am an admirer of both Mr. Pirillo's work and his enthusiasm for this community. It is based on his accomplishments and the deserved position he has attained that I feel he could have done better. A situation like this asks a lot of us. But first it asks us to be good, instead of simply right. And I know all of us are capable of both.

March 27, 2007

Background: I've been attending the South by Southwest Interactive Festival since 2000 and as a featured speaker since 2003. This year I decided to go to my ninth conference just as an attendee. South by Southwest was held March 9-18 in Austin, Texas.

Here's what I learned....

1. In the Hall of the Giants: Rumor has it South by Southwest Interactive has grown 200% in attendee population in 2005, outselling the SXSW Film Festival for the first time in their collective histories. Each official event and most of the off-schedule jamborees had corporate sponsors and an always-on tap of free drinks. The after-parties had after parties. Panels were held on Being John Malkovich floors of the convention center I never knew existed. It took three hours to get a table at lunch.

Forget having to explain to your friends back homethat South by Southwest Interactive isn't the same as South by Southwest Music. Them days are over. SXSWi has arrived. Its now the Sundance of New Media.

2. Which alters the attendee experience, probably forever. SXSWi is no longer one conference where everyone largely attends the same pool of events. It's now a swaying mobile of mini conferences where you hear a week later that your mother attended and played Legos with Wil Wright, but you'd have never known because you never saw her. Panels scattered about the convention center means everyone doesn't file down the same hallway to make lunch plans. Competing night events means you may go to one party and stay simply because you've lost your convoy. Most sadly, agendas now seem to be set by the tagline on your business card. Designers stick with designers, coders with each other, the rest in floating huddles. It seems like the only way to get a handle on the enormity of it all is to seek out familar faces. Surprise and spontaneity are a luxury now.

The frontier has closed, the west has been settled. How long before there's a geek version of Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show, complete with blink tags and 56K modems to romanticize an era long gone?

Keynote speaker Kathy Sierra began her presentation by asking the audience to group itself into three categories: Designers, coders and money people. As one of the "others" I stayed in my chair and shrugged. SXSW was formally a conference of "others" where engineers learned from english majors after drinking with lawyers and arguing with artists. That still exists, mostly in groups of friends who already knew one another, but it is an increasing rarity. Now reasons attendees come to Austin are practical: To network, get funded, to hang out with old friends, to drink.

3. I'm not bitter. No, really. You want what you love to succeed. And I have loved SXSW for the better part of a decade. Demanding it remain exactly how I first enjoyed it is selfish. Change is inevitable. The people I admire most accept change, evolve or don't but make a thoughtful decision and don't rag on yours. Asking for nothing to change then whining when it does is being a spoiled brat. And my mother raised me better than that.

Now that doesn't mean I was all higglety pigglety about everything. On more than one occasion (usually after getting stranded in the rain or waiting 2 hours for a plate of migas), I was ready grab the next flight back to California. But that's a child's instinct, running home with my football because I didn't get to play quarterback. Instead I drew on how I felt last summer, standing for 9 hours in the Chicago sun, during Lollapalooza.

"You chose to do this," I told my aching feet and sweaty eyebrows. "Being momentarily uncomfortable does not make it a bad choice. You'll only enjoy the rewards of your choice if you accept it and go from there."

4. Hard choices. I discovered by about day 3 that a) It's impossible to see/do everything that sounds interesting b)Even offered the choice to do everything is a kind of paralysis and c) Personally, I'd rather have meaningful interactions with 10 people than shallow 2 minute conversations with 100. This means there are people I love, attending the same conference as me, with whom who I cannot spend time. That sucks. It means I'll be spending even more on airfare this year to see them all. Which doesn't suck so much. It just is. It means that a giant media-rootie-kazootie is not perhaps the best place to link souls.

5. Where to look. Keep your eye on online video (Thank you gabillion dollar YouTube buyout), green technology (thank you Al Gore) and politics (thank you 2008 election) as spaces to watch for the next year. I'm sure there was more but can't see how to document treeing my accessibility or pimping my GUi or kerning my Helvetica or whatever else you smarter people do, will effect the larger world in the same way.

6. Into the Heart. The soul of the conference, for me at least, remains the activities I do year after year (without Fray Cafe and 20x2, without dinner at the Castle Hill, plan on finding me at Coffee to the People next March) and the quality time I spend with people I admire and respect. I may not leave with a fabulous new idea every year but warmth of the interaction (including family) more than makes up for it.

It helps that Austin, even after moving away seven years ago, feels like a second home. I'd like to make a point of coming back at least one more time during the year.

7. Three ways. For the first time, I felt as though SXSW was three conferences. I had friends in town for just Interactive, just Film, just Music and several combinations I hadn't considered. Each is its own experience. The days I enjoyed most are when I had a plan to do everything, did a little bit of everything that felt natural and gave myself time in between to eat, talk and get talked into doing something else.

8. Spore is going to set the world on its ear. It may be the excuse I've been looking for to upgrade iMacs.

9. Coming Home. Plan of action for all future Home-From-SXSW Re-Entries: Bring home as little media as possible, use available tools for exploring things missed at the festival, return emails and phone calls quickly, tell friends and family have arrived home safely, get good night's sleep and non-Hush Puppy accompanied meal asap.

Re: Stack of magazines, Tivoed shows and podcasts the height of a city bus, declare bankruptcy.

10. Everything changes and nothing does. I was 25 when I started coming to SXSW, a bored, lonely graduate student with too much time and nowhere useful to put it. The Internet had hit its first stride. Google was a baby. Podcasting, vlogging and World of Warcraft were like flying cars.

I'm 33 now, a published author, a home and cat owner, less tough but happier now. I probably can't hit 6 parties in an evening and know I don't want to. That's ok. I might have my kids to tend to one year like my friend Mike did. I'll adjust and still make room for the things that matter most: Learning, growth, time with people I love and spring in a place that's grown on me the longer I've been away.

This year was about acceptance. SXSW is bigger than any of us old timers had imagined it could be. That isn't going to change. But this once intimate now enormous conference isn't saying "go away" but rather "find your place." The joy is no longer in collective experience but the one you make for yourself. That isn't any less valuable, just different.

Beyond that, if you want to know why I keep coming back to Austin the second week of March every year, look at the masthead of the World Changing blog. It says "Another World is Here."

Every year at SXSW, I live in this message. The future we not only dream of but want is attainable. In many ways, it's already here. And it's not being decided in corporate board rooms or the halls of Congress but here, amongst smart people with laptops who believe that good ideas can live without excluding good values or making a good living.

Isn't that the adult world we dreamed of as children? One where work wasn't necessary druggery but both allowed us to live comfortably and aid in the coming of a better world? One that wasn't either or but both?

There is such optimism in Austin every spring. Despite the crowds, the noise, the gigantism of it all, the hope I feel sustains me for months afterword.

I had my doubts after 2006 whether I would be back. But when I am honest with myself, I can't imagine being anywhere else in March of 2008 and beyond that. Even if it's only for a few parties and a late night plate of migas, I will be back next year.

December 13, 2006

I only knew Leslie Harpold briefly, our paths crossing at parties thrown by mutualfriends. She also featured at a reading series I hosted once upon a time.

I can't say I knew her well or that we were even friends but I do remember being impressed by her intelligence, creativity and vigor for life. She was also from Michigan, which made me like her more.

There are precious few of these sorts of people in the world. Losing one makes our lives glow dimly instead of bright.

Her death at age 40 leaves me shaken. I haven't been able to find out what happened or how she died. All evidence indicates that she came down with bronchitis and then, I don't know. Her mom found her when Leslie did not answer repeated phone calls.

I suppose it doesn't really matter. Death doesn't ask our permission. It drops in, leaves and lets us clean up.

December 09, 2006

So I attended Pandora's Berkeley Meetup last week and left more impressed than I already had been. I am not new to Pandora. My friend Lucia works there and I moderated a panel at last year's SXSW featuring Pandora founder Tim Westergren (video here). But as I become increasingly interested in business (inspired by other writer entrepeneurs like Steven Johnson, Elizabeth Spiers and Douglass Rushkoff), I'm studying up on how to run a small business that serves your pocket, your employees and your values.

For the following reasons, I think Pandora is doing this beautifully. I'm calling it 5 Big Ideas for Little Companies.

1. Big Goals: Doesn't matter if your business is music, bauxite mining or sharable spreedsheets. You must talk about with a passion that speaks to the ordinary schmo. What gets you out of bed every morning? I promise you the answer is not "to improve workflow and datamining in medium sized enterprises in the consumer creation space." Or if it is, don't say it that way. How about that same message phrased that "We help people do their jobs easier, more efficiency, make more money so they can spend more quality time with their friends and family?" That conveys passion. I as the user can't be passionate about what you're doing unless I can tell you are.

2. Plain English: Pandora, I'm sure, has an algorithm under the hood that could power a space station. Nobody cares. Or the ones who do are not 99% of your customers. So when talking to customers, skip any phrasing or terminology that would make your mother shrug. Confusion not only breeds apathy but the image your business is only for people in the know. Which is only fine if you are running Bungalow 8 and buying drinks for Paris Hilton.

Tim and Co. get this. I left understanding implicitly how Pandora works and why. Better yet, I was even more excited messing around with it again.

A clear message engages users. A jargon-filled mess sends them away.

3. Big Windows: Unless you're handing contracts for the Department of Defense, no one does business behind closed doors anymore. The Internet lets people monitor your every move and there are way way more of them than there are of you. Not engaging in conversation with them means at best, you are passing up a giant publicity opportunity and at worst, asking your users to regard you with suspicion and distrust.

But wait, I can't just give away the store, right? Of course not. Be clear about what you can tell your customers and what you can't. Pandora says outright that they can't disclose the attributes they rate songs by just yet. Fine. That's called being honest with your customers. It's a lot easier to do that when you're working off a cultural of respect and openess. By saying "not just yet" Pandora is saying "trust us." They can do that because they've earned it by being straight with the people who support them.

4. Big Commitments: Pandora responds to every customer email within 48 hours. No exceptions. They knew they were building a consumer application, a new way of listening to music which is something very personal and subjective. They knew without consumer trust, they were sunk.

What is your company about? Who is it for? By going into business, you are entering into a very long relationship with a group of people you may never meet but will know you as well as your lover does. The level of you commitment to that relationship must be part of everything your company does, in both word and deed. Saying "our customers are our best resource" and then screwing them out of a rebate, keeping them on hold for 45 minutes, implanting false data on their harddrive or charging a load of money for a so-so product is the same as lying. And who wants to be in bed with a liar?

5. Big Possibilities: I left the Pandora meetup with not only renewed appreciation for Pandora itself but for music. This is what a great company does. It inspires you beyond itself. And it speaks to you as if you are worth inspiring.

December 04, 2006

The wife and young daughters of James Kim, a senior editor at CNET, have been found. The family went missing after failing to show up at a hotel in Oregon where they were scheduled to spend Thanksgiving vacation.

Mr. Kim is still missing after going for help. Our hopes and prayers are with his family.

December 02, 2006

Scott at Laughing Squid pointed me to this poster by the Berlin-based art collective Eboy. I had seen their work before in various searches for pixelated graphic work, which I dig. Especially the kind you can look at 50 times and see something new. This one is a city made using the names of Web 2.0 companies.

November 11, 2006

I'm very pleased to be named a Typepad Featured Blog. Bit of trivia: Mena Trott, one of Six Apart's co-founders, designed a very early iteration of this blog in exchange for a Gone With The Wind commenorative DVD box set. So I like to say things started around here with an unparalleled act of generosity.

Professionally I write, speak, consult and advise a handful of arts-related businesses and organizations about technology. For fun, I consume enormous quanities of books, music and movies, train in Kuk Sool Won, a traditional Korean martial art, and am an dedicated mini golfer.

I use the blog for ideas I call "too small for an article, too large for a note." I do a fair about of writing about contemporary issues in culture and technology, which often lead to pieces for print publications, churn through my del.icio.us links via a feature I call "Gleanings", review movies in a single sentence and drop quotes that inspire me.

Mostly what I do here is about sharing information. My three favorite words are "did you know?" followed closely by "No, I didn't."

November 01, 2006

In response to an earlier post, I got a note from one Kristina Dahl, part of the team behind Squirl, a social networking site for collectors.

Squirl comes at a fortunate time for me as I've been on the lookout for a database program to catalogue my art collection (really a pretentious way of saying a half dozen prints and some pottery) and most programs I've found are either Windows only or aimed at the yacht club market and hence, cost about $800. According to Ms. Dahl, the art collection template, is taggable and has the fields I'm looking for.

As soon as I can get my staff photographer to come over and shoot each piece, I'm going to give Squirl a try.